All That's Within
by SiennaR79
Summary: Sequelcontinuation of Downfall, for those of you who wanted it (and myself!) The morning comes, but Katie's problems refuse to fade. Swearing, drug and sex references. Emotional FK, please r&r! Chapter two. Lots of Zack, and Katie still isn't awake.
1. How You Sleep

Hello out there, again. This is the much-debated, should-I-write, will-it-ruin-the-first-part, will-it-suck-in-general, "sequel" to _Downfall_. I got mixed comments about whether or not I should continue, but the fact is, I made myself all curious to find out what happened next. So I figured I'd share, and if no one likes it—same as it went with Downfall itself—I'll take this down. Please, please review, if too few reviews…I won't continue. (Which, if it sucks, may be what you want. It's great that I have so much faith in my writing, isn't it?)

-Sienna the sleepy (heh…alliteration…)

* * *

It was only a matter of time.

Of this much, Freddy Jones was sure. No one could abuse their body like this forever. It was only a matter of time before she snapped out of it, opened her eyes, smelled the coffee and went back to being good ol' straight-edge Katie. In fact, that night, he would have placed money on it being soon. That night he made a decision.

Did she even know she had a problem? He thought back to a night a few weeks previously, when his cell phone had gone off at four am. He'd taken to sleeping with it in his palm, just in case she called. Who else could she turn to? He was her best friend, and she knew it, she knew all she had to do was call and he'd be there in a flash, and to make things better, he'd never tell a soul. She could call Summer or Eleni or Zack and they'd come rescue her in a heartbeat as well—but they would try to help. Damn their consciences. They'd tell her she needed intervention.

All Freddy would do was answer the phone. He was speed dial number seven on Katie's cell, though he didn't know it. There were no other speed dials, either, Katie just liked the number seven best. And it was easy to remember when she was intoxicated.

"Freddy," came her muffled voice.

"I'm here, Katie," Freddy said, quietly because it was so late.

There were blubbering noises on the other end, but he waited. "I…I don't know what happened, Freddy."

"Where are you."

"I…I don't know…Freddy…"

"What? What is it?"

More sobs, and then softly, as if she was afraid someone would overhear….

"Freddy, I can't find my clothes."

He gulped, trying to swallow the idea of someone…no, he wasn't going to think that. Focus, focus on the problem.

"Where are you. Are you still in his room?"

"No. I found…I put my shirt on. And my jacket. I'm in the hallway…somewhere…I looked for my pants…but he was waking up…."

"Okay, okay." He was already pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, grabbing an extra set to throw in his car. Picking up his keys, he tiptoed downstairs and slipped out the backdoor as quietly as possible. "I'm coming to get you, baby. Just find out where you are."

Sniffle, shuffle. "There's a sign, but the letters aren't normal. It's like…a triangle…and an 'O' with a line through it…and…"

He almost slammed the car door by accident. "Fuck. Are you in a fraternity?"

"…maybe?"

He drove for almost an hour. It was only a matter of time before he found her, he would have searched all day if necessary. When he pulled his black Cougar up to a likely-looking building, she bolted out, wearing only a t-shirt, jacket, underwear and flipflops. It was cold, and he tried not to notice anything while she changed into the clean clothes. His clothes.

"Where do you want to go?" Freddy asked.

Katie sat in the passenger seat, curled into a ball, ignoring the seatbelt. She bit her thumbnail and stared at the brightening world through red-rimmed eyes. Every bit of her hurt. Why, she wanted to know, why did it all hurt so bad?

"Just don't take me home," she said. So he didn't.

* * *

That was the first time they'd watched the sun rise from this random field. Today was the sixth, but maybe it didn't count, because only Freddy was conscious for it. Katie slept straight through, peacefully oblivious to the growing light, the chilling wind, Freddy's movement and Freddy's urgent voice. Because, despite his best efforts, Katie would not wake up.

"Come on, Katie," he said, holding her face in his hands. "Come on, it's morning."

She didn't even twitch. He lifted her wrist and dropped it, only to watch it hit the roof with a little crack.

"Please wake up," he begged. "Please."

What was his plan? His carefully devised plan, one of watching and waiting, and guarding Katie nightly. If he was always with her, surely he could protect her, and then she wouldn't do anything bad and they could be together and maybe then she would say she loved him when she was coherent. And no one would have to know about Freddy's Big Mistake.

No one would see he was almost killing the girl he loved.

It had to be scrapped now, obviously. She needed more help than he could give her. So he gathered her into his arms and tucked her into the car, buckling the seatbelt around her limp body and wiping away the burning tears that crept into his eyes. She had to wake up, didn't she? It was only a matter of time.

They peeled out, Freddy merging carelessly back onto the road. It was only about six in the morning, so traffic wasn't an issue, but that didn't help if he didn't know where he was going.

He called the only person he could think of, who was not happy to be woken at six am.

"What the hell, man," said Zack groggily.

"Zack, Katie's hurt," said Freddy by way of a morning greeting.

There was a pause. "Bad?"

"I dunno. I think so."

"Take her to the hospital. Call an ambulance. Why are you calling me?"

"I can't take her there, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because! Look, we'll be at your house in like five minutes."

"How am I supposed to help?!"

"I don't fucking know! I don't fucking have anywhere else to go, alright?!"

"Alright! Chill!"

Another pause, this one heated by Freddy's panting. He looked over at Katie—still there. Still gone.

"What happened, dude?" asked Zack finally.

"I'll tell you when I get there."

"Is she okay?"

"No."

"You seriously need to—"

"Give me two minutes."

Freddy hung up, unable to stop breathing heavily. There was a turn in the road, but he went ahead and passed the slow semi truck and turned onto Zack's street. Things…they had to be okay. She would wake up, he was sure, she had to wake up because it wasn't possible for Katie to die. That was all, it was just…impossible.

Or only a matter of time.


	2. Trouble Me

Reviews mean so much to me. You all liked it, so here's your reward for reviewing—another chapter. (: It's a bit more action, more motion and talking, than the previous, or Downfall itself. I'm hoping for at least ten reviews for this chapter too, and the faster I get them, the faster I'll update! (Such a wicked bargain….) Anyway, all the titles are coming from one song. Know which? Guess. Know what's wrong with Katie? You're welcome to guess that too, though it's not nearly as difficult to figure out. I guess neither of them are, if you like a certain kind of music…oh anyway…I'm rambling. On with the story!

-Sienna (:

* * *

"Fuck," said Zack.

Freddy stood in his doorway, holding Katie in the romanticized way, draped across his arms. The same way he would have held her if they got married, and he would have carried her over the threshold of their first home. That would have been a happy time. His bride wouldn't be turning blue then.

"She needs help," was all he could think to say.

"What the hell happened?"

He went past his friend, into the living room. When he set her down on the couch was the first time he noticed her fingertips. They were gentlest shade of lavender.

"Freddy?"

"What?" He squeezed her hands. His mind went _Katie, Katie,_ as though he could reach her through thought alone. Reach her and ask her to come back from wherever she was. _Katie, Katie._

"Tell me what happened."

"Are your parents home?"

"No! Shut up and answer me!"

"I can't!"

Zack Mooneyham rarely got angry. But then again, Katie was rarely unconscious in his living room.

He grabbed Freddy by the collar and swung him around to stare eye to eye. "Freddy Jones. Tell me what the fuck is wrong with her, or I'm calling 911 right now."

This was a bad idea. Freddy never should have taken her here. Zack didn't understand, he wouldn't understand! He was supposed to help, not ask questions, just go get something that would make her better and make everything okay! Clinging tightly to her hands, he tried to answer.

"She…did something," he managed. That was true. She did some things. Pot, cocaine, heroin, all the basic drugs. Not ecstasy or meth, as far as he knew, but who could be sure? Not even Katie knew.

Zack took a deep breath. His friend was nearly deranged. And his other friend? The little girl he grew up with? The bassist in his band? His relationship mentor? She was…there…possibly…not…. _Keep a cool head, Zack. _Like he usually did. _Just get her what she needs._

_What does she need?_

"Maybe we should get her some, er, aspirin," he suggested. Internally, he hit himself. Not like Freddy would fall for such a stupid suggestion.

"Okay," Freddy said. All of his attention was focused on Katie's closed lids.

Zack got up, then hesitated. "Is she breathing?"

He touched her lips. Nodded. Zack turned away and disappeared into the kitchen.

_Shit. What the fuck is he THINKING? _

It took all his restraint not to slam things as he went by them—namely his empty cereal bowl and the milk jug. He did throw the Fruity Pebbles across the room, though, before he could think better of it—they hit the far wall with a satisfying "thud-spshhhh" sound, exploding, scattering brightly-colored rice bits all over the floor.

The phone was on the wall by the fridge. He picked of the receiver as quietly as possible and pressed three buttons.

"Emergency Dispatch, how can I help you."

He swallowed hard. The man's voice was monotonous, as though he did this every day—well, on second thought, he probably did. _Chill, Zack. Just tell the man what's wrong._ _Like you know._

"My friend is hurt, or sick, or something." _Alright, good start. _

"What happened."

Again, that question without a question mark. "I don't know. My other friend brought her here. I'm af—it might—she looks bad, unconscious—"

"Would you like me to call an ambulance?"

"Yes," Zack sighed in relief. "Please."

He gave the man his address, casting nervous glances towards the living room. Would Freddy notice how long it was taking him to find the aspirin? Not likely. He was preoccupied….

"Can you describe your friend, Mr. Mooneyham?"

"Sure. She's about sixteen, brown hair, brown eyes—"

"And her name is?"

"Oh—Katie. Katherine. Brown. Katherine Brown."

"About how much would you say Miss Brown weighs?"

"…I never thought about it before…she's not fat but she's not skinny…maybe, like, 130 pounds? Does that sound right?"

"How tall is she?"

"About five-four, five-five."

"Sounds healthy. Can you tell me her symptoms for the medical personnel?"

"Uh, I don't really know. She's unconscious…breathing though…. Her fingernails are kinda blue, too, but I dunno if that's cause she's barely breathing or—"

"Can you look at her now?"

Zack thought for a second. He could go get the aspirin, go back to Freddy, and then say he was getting her a glass of water or something. "Yeah, hold on. Don't hang up."

"It's my job not to," replied the man.

Run into the bathroom, run through the kitchen (feet crunching on Fruity Pebbles), run into the living room with the bottle of aspirin.

"Found it!"

Freddy looked up. "You think it'll help?"

"Um, maybe. She's gotta sit up though. And we'll need water to wash it down her throat."

"Right…."

Together the boys heaved her into a sitting position. Discreetly, Zack felt her pulse and even managed to get his head against her chest to hear her breathing. Faint. Like a weak breeze through winter tree boughs, and shallow.

"Can you see me, Katie?" Zack asked, lifting up her eyelid. Her dead-fisheye stared back at him. He shuddered. "Please wake up."

"Please," Freddy echoed.

"I'll go get the water. Just stay with her—don't do anything—okay?"

Nods from Freddy. Zack bolted back to the phone.

"Still there?"

"Sure am, kid."

Another sigh of relief. He wanted to hug this guy, whoever he was, just for being there. Or tell him so. But instead he listed everything he could notice about Katie.

"She's cold. Her breathing is shallow and labored. Remember what I told you about her fingers? Her lips are purple too. She's all cold. And her eyes, they don't have any irises."

"No irises? The colored part?"

"No," Zack physically hit himself this time. "That's not what I mean…. They're all the colored part. Almost no black dot in the middle, that thing."

"Pupil," said the man. "No pupil."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem."

"Are the ambulance people coming?"

"They've been on their way for five minutes. Should be any moment now."

"Ohkay." Breathe, breathe. "Ohkay."

"Mr. Mooneyham, please don't take this question as an insult to your lifestyle…."

"No, go ahead."

There was a sound of rifling papers on his end. "Is Miss Brown, or has Miss Brown ever been, involved in drug use?"

"I…" Zack blinked. He though of all the nights they'd spent getting high in Freddy's basement. But that was only weed, and weed didn't kill people, it just made you stupid. Right?

"You mean like, hard drugs?"

"Specifically, narcotics and opiates. Morphine, heroin, codeine."

_What the hell is Freddy into?_ "Not that I—"

A loud knocking sounded throughout the Mooneyham residence, accompanied by the doorbell.

"What the fuck?" said Freddy, his voice slightly distant.

"They're here," Zack said.

"Good. Tell the EMTs everything you told me, okay?"

"Right. Uh, thanks."

"Anytime. Good luck."

It felt strange to hang up the phone. At first he clung to it, like a lifeline, one that would explain everything. Or had it already?

"ZACK?" Freddy yelled. Zack heard a paramedic say, "please, step aside, son." Freddy must have left Katie's side to answer the door, or—no, wait, it hadn't been locked. They let themselves in. _Please don't let him do anything stupid…._

"ZACK!"

"I'M COMING!" Zack shouted. Crunch, crunch went the Fruity Pebbles. He would never eat Fruity Pebbles again. Every time in the future, just looking at them would make him feel sick and nervous. Like he did now.


	3. My Side

I bet you thought I was dead, didn't you? Well, no such luck. If you're still around, here's your reward for having more dedication than me: a third installment. I'm sorry if it sucks, I wrote it in about an hour while quite sleepy but buzzing with creativity for some reason. I hope there aren't many typos or anything, if there are, please excuse—it's late.

Here's my paltry excuse for not updating: school and sports own my life. But you have no idea how happy it makes me to check my email and find the odd review there, someone reminding me that they like what I wrote and actually care to know what happens next…so thank you, all. (:

Enough sentimental babbling. Oh, but Nissanchild, I learned this stuff about OD'ing like any good naïve author can…research. Haha, I wish there was a more interesting explanation, but there you go.

Sorry for the stupidly long a/n,

Sienna

(email me: siennar79 at yahoo dot com)

"YOU CALLED THEM!"

Zack winced, unable to bear Freddy's accusatory tone. He made it sound like Zack had betrayed him, betrayed Katie.

Of course, to Freddy, he had.

The EMTs—there were four of them—swarmed around Katie, who lay motionless on the couch. They were dressed in white uniforms; they poked and probed in an efficient, authoritative manner. One was reading off symptoms, the same ones Zack had relayed to the dispatcher only minutes ago. Stunned and hurt, Freddy found himself pushed out of the way.

"Listen, Freddy, it's for her own good—" Zack began placating.

"Her own good!" Freddy repeated.

"I know it's not what you—"

"What the hell do you know about what's good for her!"

"MORE THAN YOU DO!"

Both were shocked by the volume and intensity of Zack's reply. They stared at each other, chests heaving. Only the EMTs continued unaffected.

"You don't know shit, man."

"I know my friend is hurt. I know that when someone is hurt, you get them help."

Freddy shook his head slowly. "No. You don't know _jack shit_."

"At least I did something—"

"You did something all right, you fucked it all—"

"HEY!" Zack yelled again. "I don't want to be the reason Katie dies, okay?"

It was like he had punched Freddy in the nose, except there was no physical movement, no blood, and no treatable wound. His friend exhaled, as a tremor passed through his sleep-deprived body. Compared to Zack, Freddy and Katie looked like shells, dry shriveled husks of human beings. _When did this happen? _Zack asked himself in that moment of quiet. _When did those circles under his eyes get so deep?_

"Katie Brown, age sixteen, approximately 130 pounds, correct?" The blonde EMT spoke in a clipped tone.

They hesitated.

"Yeah," Freddy said finally.

"What are your relations to the patient?"

"Friend," said Zack immediately, but Freddy seemed to choke. What word was there for him? Her destructor, her corruptor, her poison, her downfall….

The lady EMT seemed not to notice Freddy's lack of response. They were loading Katie onto a stretcher, and his eyes followed her form hungrily as they moved her from sight.

"Dispatch said you were unaware as to what happened to Miss Brown?"

"Yeah," Zack said, answering for them both again.

"She's in critical condition," said the EMT, skillfully not answering the question she herself had raised. "Would one of you accompany us to the hospital, please?"

"I'll go," said Freddy.

She nodded. A check over her shoulder confirmed that the ambulance was ready. "We'll keep you informed, Mr. Mooneyham. Thank you."

"No problem," Zack said halfheartedly as the two disappeared out the doorway. Freddy looked back for only a second, a second long enough to portray a hundred emotions: anger, hate, pain, confusion, guilt.

Zack sat down on the couch, not bothering to close his front door. His hands were shaking. And he was crying, apparently. His body did these things without his consent.

"God," he found himself whispering. He wasn't religious, his time in church included only Christmas and Easter and the occasional mandatory baptism. But now he thought of his friends—one physically dying, the other spiritually dead. And he just said, "God, please."

On a bright Saturday morning, just before his breakfast of Fruity Pebbles, Zack's entire world had been thrown into a wood chipper.

The ambulance's siren resounded in the cramped room in back. Freddy felt his stomach swerve dangerously with every turn. He felt his pulse quicken with every breath, until he was certain he would have a heart attack and the EMTs would have two emergencies on their hands.

But he couldn't do that, they had to pay attention to Katie. He willed his pulse to still and hers to speed up.

One woman turned over Katie's arm, looking for a place to put the IV. She stopped, blinked, and tugged on the sleeve of her assistant, drawing his attention to the tiny bruises on the inside of her elbow.

"She was injecting," the woman said, jabbing the IV into a vein on Katie's hand instead. Freddy winced.

"No point in using gastric lavage, then," said the man. He put away the tube he had been unwinding.

They both looked at Freddy cautiously before returning to their work. They seemed unwilling to speak in front of him, to give him the information he so craved. Was her pulse stronger? Was she breathing more deeply? Would she be all right?

_It's payback, fucker,_ he thought. _You didn't tell them what was wrong with her, so they won't tell you what's right._

At least Zack let him be the one to ride with her to the hospital. In hindsight, Freddy wished he had made Zack come along. Not that he wanted the emotional support of a friend, but he realized he didn't trust Zack anymore—he was probably calling Katie's parents this very second. It was over. He was screwed.

Soon, everyone would know.

And then?

_And then what? _

_And then I leave._

He stared at the girl lying on a stretcher, white skin swathed in white sheets. Vomit rose in his mouth and then settled back down. He had just thought of the answer, as much as he didn't like it, it was the only way to put things right and make them fair

it had to be fair

he couldn't punish himself enough if she

if she

Freddy covered her small, calloused fingers with his big clumsy hands. The EMTs worked around him, unwilling to give him the slightest eye contact.

He didn't realize he was speaking out loud until he finished.

"I'm here, I'm with you, I'm by your side like…like in a bad song…it's stupid but it's true, Katie, and I won't leave…ever…I'm going with you, do you hear me? Anywhere. Anywhere."

Katie's hand jerked, and for a moment he thought she moved, but no. An EMT had stabbed her arm with a hypodermic needle, and was now propelling its contents into her polluted bloodstream.

"What is that," Freddy managed to ask, his mouth dry.

The technician looked startled. "Naloxone," he answered.

Freddy nodded like he knew what that meant. "It'll make her better," he said.

"It should help."

He kept nodding for a moment. This Noxalone, or whatever it was, would make everything better, he told himself…but the message didn't reach him completely. In his mind, he had already resigned himself to a terrible fate, the only one, he was convinced, that he deserved.

If Katie died, so would Freddy.


End file.
